


Don’t Play

by maliuh



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: F/M, Tom has a dirty mouth when he’s angry, and oof, big smut, its hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 05:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15598971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maliuh/pseuds/maliuh
Summary: inspired by a really cringey and unfunny prank interview someone did on tom. you get caught up in a prank interview on tom. ever the gentleman, he plays along and acts polite, you however have had a long day and refuse to put up with such childish behavior. also you play silk in iw soo let’s just pretend she was actually in there.





	Don’t Play

**Author's Note:**

> i wanna say i’m not trying to hate on the guys who made the interview but that would be a fat lie. it’s just really unprofessional how they waste his time and energy just so they can use his name for some clout. put some mf respect on tom’s name. enjoy ;)<3

You and Tom both greet the interviewer politely, neither of you saying anything about the fact that he’s got some weird... fabric... tied around his head. Tom shoots a look at you as if he knew exactly where your mind was.

“Is that the outfit you’ll be wearing for the whole interview?” His voice is flat as he addresses Tom and you look past the camera to Harry and give him a confused look.

“It is actually, yea..” Tom is still smiling but he turns to look at your outfit, “Do you not like it?” You want to scoff cause who fucking cares if this guy doesn’t like his outfit(which was... phenomenal, by the way. the chain? oof) but of course Tom fucking cares.

“It’s a brave outfit, but um,” he leans forward and pressed his face into his hand as if he’s irritated, “Why are you pretending to be British for the interview?”

It takes him a second, you can see on his face that he’s honestly astonished by the pure audacity of this guy. Tom gives him the benefit of the doubt, “Why am I what? Sorry?”

“I watched the trailer for the movie,” he looks back at the producer like he’s confused, “And um- you were American and then-“

“No, but I am,” Tom looks off set to his brothers who are choking in laughter, “I am British, I play-“ he swallows and you know from months of watching him on set when he’s gonna do his American accent, “I do an American accent when I play Spider-man.”

“How is that possible?” You can’t control your expression as it shifts to disbelief, is this guy for fucking real? You listened to Tom do a play by play of the situation, not sounding even a little frustrated.

“Do you think I could stand a chance in this industry? Y/N?” He called your name looking for your participation.

“Definitely.” You lifted your voice so it sounded convincing.

The interviewer seemed to be taking a concentrated pause before each question, “Well I probably- I mean I am a better actor, you just have to take your breaks in life sometimes.” Tom shifts so his hand is wrapped around your wrist in your lap, a silent plea to keep it cool, “Obviously you both know some cool people and I don’t wanna brag but I know Conor Maynard.”

The name is familiar in your head as Tom says, “I know Conor Maynard too, actually.”

“I mean everyone knows Conor Maynard, but I know know him, you know him right, Y/N?” A list of clap backs file through your head and you rush to pick the best one.

“Can’t say that name rings any bells,” turning to Tom he catches the playful look in your eyes and smiles, you two go back and forth and you pretend not to know any of the songs he lists off, “Ohh,” you smile sweetly back at the interviewer, making sure there’s no feeling behind your eyes, “The one who’s career died in 2012! No, I don’t know him.”

Faintly you hear Sam doing a spit take of his water, the interviewers face goes blank and there’s a beat of silence. He decides to switch the subject, “So your characters are love interests in the movie,” he clears his throat and his face turns a bright red, “Have you guys had sex in real life?” Tom sputters and the room goes dead silent, “I bet I could do better than him,” he addresses his words at you.

The anger and embarrassment rushes through you, “I don’t. I heard gingers have small dicks,” his mouth is open and he’s looking around at people off set like he’s waiting for them to throw him a line. You pick up your water cup and take a drink from it.

“You could come back to my hotel and find out,” and you snap, splashing the ice water onto his face. Your heart is beating so fast you only realize Tom is vehemently upset by this as well when he’s chest to chest with the interviewer.

“Mate, you wanna say that again?” Luckily for the interviewer Tom’s attention is drawn away by the door opening and two guys tumble in practically peeing themselves from laughing so hard.

You barely make out their gasps of “it’s a prank!” and it only makes your patience wear thinner. Tom, being the actual angel he is, shakes their hands. When the men approach you all you can do is roll your eyes, “That was fucking disgraceful,” the anger in your chest turns to hurt, “Tom works hard all day, we both do, and to just waste our time clowning around so you can use our names for views is fucking disrespectful.”

The only thing they do is laugh in your face while the interviewer behind them does look genuinely guilty. “Tom,” Conor turns to him with open arms, “Guys night, what do you say?”

Tom looks to you before saying anything, “I’m taking the boys back to the hotel,” your eyes are pleading with him to not go out with these mongrels.

He squints and looks at Conor, “You were the one telling him to say that disrespectful shit to my girl?” Shaking his head he grabs your hand signals you to get your purse, “Dude..” Is all he can say before ushering you out the door.

The Uber back is spent with you angrily talking Tom’s ear off and him just rubbing his finger tips against your scalp. As soon as you all arrived at the hotel the twins scurry off to their room which is unusual since they tend to float around in your room for a couple hours, “That’s weird,” you look up from digging in your purse and it clicks why they buggered off so quick.

Tom’s eyes were clouded and watching you like a hawk, “Darling?”

“Yah..” You were breathless just taking in the way his jaw clenched.

“Open the fucking door,” your jaw went slack for a moment, “Please.” He added. Scrambling for the key card you could feel his eyes burning into you.

The light turned green and the lock clicked open, “Oh thank god!” You cheer quietly, tossing your purse haphazardly into the darkness and instantly Tom is on you, picking you up and letting your legs wrap around his waist, lips pressed tightly to yours.

He rests his knees against the edge of the bed and carefully lowers you onto the covers. He takes a moment, smoothing his hands over your soft stomach, and then he’s unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them off your legs along with your underwear, “Fuckin’ disrespect my girl,” he helps you sit up so he can pull your shirt off and your bra follows it in a pile on the carpet. He’s horny and his accent gets thicker the more he indulges.

You scoot further up the bed to give him more room and he follows after peeling his jacket and white shirt off. His fingers are surprisingly cooler than your body temperature and you moan at the sensation of him raking his nails down your sides. Propping himself over you he ducks his head to suck hickeys onto your neck and shit, your team is gonna kick your fucking ass if you show up to tomorrow’s interview with hickeys but fuck, it feels so good.

“Fuckin,” his breath his hot against your neck, “Fuckin pervert, what kind of dickhead says shit like that?” He slurs curse words in his anger, totally unaware what it does to you hearing him say that kind of stuff so aggressively, “Guys a fuckin’ cunt if I say so myself,” you can’t stop the obscene moan that leaves your mouth upon hearing his words. He pauses marking your shoulder with his teeth and moves so you’re face to face, “What was that, darling?”

You clear your throat and shrug, eyes moving to examine the gold chain dangling from his neck, “Nuh uh, baby,” his hand is firm as it forces you to look him, “What was that?” He asks again for the final time.

Sucking on your cheek, you give it up and tell him, “It’s hot when you say stuff so..aggressive,” a growl escapes his mouth and he’s kissing you again, this time much more intensely. He slides two fingers into you and starts pumping them, sitting up and simultaneously undoing his belt and pants.

Tom guides you through your first orgasm of the night, and you can see him fumbling to discard his pants. You can’t help but giggle as he dives back over you, kissing your arm as it found its way around his neck. Your free hand is put to use and helps guide his cock into you, and once he bottoms out you bring it back up and dig your nails into his shoulder blade.

“Fuck,” he strains, hips snapping against yours at a rapid pace. Your admission of enjoying Tom’s foul mouth seems ages ago, but he hasn’t forgotten. He’s holding himself above you with one arm and the other hand grips your jaw firmly, “I fucking love being inside your pussy,” and you cry out in shock, “Feels like your cunt was made just for me,” your nails tear into his muscular back and your vision gets shaky, “Fuck, darling, come on and cum, s’ alright.”

He cums with you and kisses your forehead before he drops theatrically next to you on the bed. The darkness in his eyes is gone and he’s smiling a smile that could give you a cavity. He opens his arms and you worm your way over, head tucked in his shoulder, “Love you, princess.”

“Love you, Tommy.”

Almost a week later people are tweeting the video link at you. It’s titled “SPIDERMAN & SILK INTERVIEW *PRANK GONE WRONG* (EARPIECE) ft. Conor Maynard & Caspar Lee” and Tom has to force your finger away from clicking it.

You exclaim in frustration and toss your phone onto the side table of the couch, “Who says stuff like that? Who tells someone to say stuff like that?” Tom shushes you gently an brings you so you’re sitting sideways on his lap, “AND THEN,” he chuckles a little at your tone, “THEN he has the audacity to try and shake my hand?” 

“I know, darling, I know.”


End file.
